


And They Were Roommates

by ClarissaGeorge



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Plot, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Service Dogs, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2020-10-24 12:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20705849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClarissaGeorge/pseuds/ClarissaGeorge
Summary: Keith was a poor, anxious college student. Lance was also a poor, college student with an apartment in need of a roommate. Need I say more?





	1. I Need A Rommate

**Author's Note:**

> I am such a horrible person right? Instead of finishing my other fics I do new ones. At least, I'm finishing these tho. *Gets hit in the face with rotten fruit* Thank you, I deserve that. Enjoy, I guess!

Keith was dirt poor. He got kicked out of his apartment because the rent was about $500 more than he could afford, he can barely afford to feed either himself or his dog on a regular basis (Guess who it is? Hint: it isn’t Keith), he’s currently sleeping in various libraries, and he showers at various gyms. Thank god, his dog is a registered service animal for his anxiety.

So, in short, Keith looks like a mess and he can only handle a night shift at a small café that’s open in the middle of the night for college students and insomniacs like him. Thank the stars he’s got a full ride scholarship.

“Come on, buddy. The library is open for another couple of hours. I can take a quick nap, then-oof!”

Keith’s vision was suddenly hindered by dozens of yellow papers being thrown around him.

“Oh, my gosh! I am so sorry! Are you alright?” A bronze skinned boy exclaimed, immediately jumping up and running over to Keith.

Keith glanced at the outstretched hand. This guy looked really familiar.

“Hey, dude. Can you hear? Are you deaf? Well, obviously you wouldn’t know what I’m saying. Wow, there are a lot of deaf people here. Um,” then the vaguely familiar guy broke off, moving his hands in rapid ASL.

Keith huffed out a laugh as he stood up. ‘I’m not deaf,’ He signed back, with a small smirk on his face. Lance. Lance was the guy’s name. He was in a few of the same classes.

Lance blinked. “Oh. I’m really sorry. You know sign language?”

“Uh, yeah. The, uh, group home I used to live in. There was a deaf girl and I…learned,” Keith trailed off awkwardly as his palms started to sweat. Why was he telling this guy his life story? He wasn’t a friend. What if he was being annoying? Lance was probably extremely annoyed at him. Maybe he should just-

“Oh, cool. Well, um, cute dog. What’s it’s name?” Lance said, bending down to pick up his flyers. Lance smiled kindly at Keith and his service dog, but he didn’t pet Keith’s dog.

“He doesn’t have a name,” Keith replied, bending down as well. This was so weird. He was _never_ this comfortable or not awkward with strangers. Or even people he knew.

“What?! How do you own a dog and he doesn’t have a name?” Lance gasped, seeming personally offended.

Keith shrugged.

“Well, he looks like a…Cosmo.”

“Like in the universe?”

Lance spluttered. “What? No! Cosmo like in Fairly Oddparents. Uncultured swine,” Lance said with a joking smile. “Yeah like the universe cosmos.”

They settled into a comfortable silence.

“Hey, Keith, right? I think it would suit him better if it was Cosmo with a K. Like in your name.”

Keith handed the flyers back to Lance.

“Oh. Okay. Kosmo.”

Kosmo looked at Keith, spun around once and wagged his tail rapidly. He was trained not to bark.

“Hey,” Lance said, biting his lip and moving closer. “I’m kind of hungry. You wanna get something to eat? I need to put up the rest of these flyers.”

Keith’s brows furrowed. The library was gonna close soon and the nice librarian was there.

“I would, but I have to, um, study. Maybe next time.” That was a believable lie, but Keith grimaced when Lance’s face fell.

“Well, we could exchange numbers if you want to hold up your promise. Take a flyer too. It has my number on it.”

Keith scratched the back of his head avoiding Lance’s gaze.

“I don’t own a phone,” Keith whispered, but took the flyer from Lance’s outstretched hand.

“…cool. Well, go study. Um, see you in class, I guess.” And with that Lance was off. Keith groaned, pounding softly on his forehead. He was starving, but he needed sleep.

Keith glanced down at the flyer. Sure, enough was Lance’s name number…under the description of a roommate ad.

**ROOMMATE WANTED**

**Two-bedroom, one-bathroom apt building. Pets are allowed. Elevator in building. Utilities included. RENT: $800 (Paid 50/50)**

**Call: 402-420-6969**

**(That’s my actual number. It’s not a prank, I swear)**

***No smokers, I have asthma. ***

Thank god, Keith was too poor to afford cigarettes.

“Lance!” Keith called, running after the despondent Cuban. “Lance! Hey!”

Keith was shaking with anxiety by the time he reached Lance. Everyone was staring at him. Well, technically three people and a few birds, but Keith’s heart was still pounding.

“I need a place to stay. I’ll be your roommate,” Keith gasped out when Lance finally turned around. “I’ll be your roommate.”

Lance’s widened, but then his expression melted into a smile.

And that’s how it began.


	2. I Got Paints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I edited the tags because I have accidentally made it a plot story instead of a short fluffy like five chapter fic. Yay? I will finish this tho. So, don't worry. I actually have an idea and Keith is an Anxious Boi, but Lance is such a sweetheart and Hunk is gonna peep some sh-crap. (This is a G story. I'm not allowed to curse.) ENJOY MY DARLINGS!

Keith has been living with Lance for three months now and honestly, it’s a nightmare. Lance is loud and touchy and messy and…and it feels like home. More home than he’s felt in years and he’s comfortable.

Lance talks to Keith and makes Keith laugh and hesitantly makes sure that it’s okay to touch Keith before actually touching him. Lance is kind and considerate and he never invites anyone over when Keith is there and he always asks Keith if someone could come over, which he totally doesn’t need to do, but Keith appreciates it all the more. Especially, when Keith leaves immediately so he doesn’t have to be holed up in his room.

Keith sighed and sat down on the couch. Kosmo settled his head on Keith’s lap. Lance had specfficaly stated that Kosmo is not allowed on the couch, but he catches Lance occasionally being cuddled by Kosmo. On the couch. So, it’s fine. Keith went to grab the remote when his phone lit up with a message from Bean Bean <3.

Keith paused when he looked at the name. How the hell did Lance keep getting in his phone?

** BB <3: keith. im getting blue paint and red paint for the apartment **

**BB <3: is that okay**

**Keithy Boiiiiii: Yes? It’s fine. I thought you already got paint.**

**BB <3: yea but im getting blue paint and red paint **

**BB <3: they are now are family**

**BB <3: can we keep them**

**Keithy Boiiiiiii: *Our and yes, Lance. We can keep them. Are you high?**

**BB <3: no take backs my love**

**BB <3: and no I have not smoked anything today…not that I usually do**

Keith froze. Were they close enough for pet names? He didn’t think so, but maybe he was wrong.

**Keithy Boiiiiiii: Yes, darling. We can keep the paints.**

Two hours later, Keith heard a commotion outside.

“Lance?”

“One moment! You said no take backs, so we’re keeping them okay?”

Keith cocked his head with a small, confused smile on his face. Why wouldn’t he be okay with paint? Then Lance opened the door.

“I’ve been bamboozled, haven’t I?” Keith said, looking at all of the things in Lance’s arms.

“You said no take backs,” Lance said, smiling sweetly, but Keith knew. He knew that Lance was a deviant. A dangerous gameplayer. A trickerer of words.

“I said yes to paints. I bet those hold animals. Did you get lizards or something?” Keith said, breathing deeply. He silently counted to ten. He was about to kill Lance, but he was too poor too afford the rent by himself.

Lance set the two crates on the ground and opened them. Two small animals crawled out.

“Kittens, actually. And you said yes to blue paint and red paint. This is Blue Paint,” Lance said, gesturing to a grey tabby with blue eyes. “And this is Red Paint.” Lance gestured to a black cat with yellow eyes and a bright red bow around its neck.

They both turned and blinked owlishly, and strangely in sync, at Keith.

“If I strangled you, how quickly do you think you would die?” Keith said calmly before launching himself at Lance who immediately dropped everything in his arms and sprinted to the kitchen. The lay of the apartment was very open, an advantage for Lance. He made it on one side of the island while Keith was on the other.

“You’ll love them!” Keith feigned one way, but Lance saw it coming and avoided Keith’s capture.

“No, I won’t! We can’t afford them! Take them back.”

That made Lance stop so Keith jumped at Lance, but Lance deftly dodged and sprinted to his room.

“You have to catch me first!” Lance cackled, hesitating to laugh before he tried to shut his door, but Keith grabbed the handle.

“No!” Lance wailed, when Keith flung the door open. Lance ran to his bed and leaped inside the covers like Keith was the boogeyman and the blankets could protect him.

Ignoring all the warning signs in his brain telling him to not do it, Keith jumped onto the bed as well, grabbing at Lance who fought valiantly under the covers.

“You tricked me!” Keith decided to smother Lance.

Lance yanked the covers away from his face.

“Yes, I did!”

And with a great burst of strength, Keith found himself on his back and Lance straddling his waist.

“Are you ticklish?” Lance asked with a mischievous lilt and an innocent expression. Keith knew that look.

“Lance,” Keith warned because he was, in fact, extremely ticklish. “Don’t you dare.”

“We’re keeping the cats.” It was an order, but Keith was stubborn.

“We can’t afford to pay for cats. We are both college students with shitty jobs!”

Lance’s fingers danced over Keith’s sides. Keith reacted accordingly and squirmed violently, trying to buck out from under his roommate as peals of laughter erupted from his mouth. Lance suddenly stopped.

“We’re keeping Red and Blue.”

Keith scowled defiantly, but the effect was ruined with giggles still escaped from him.

“No.”

So, the cycle continued until they were both wheezing and had tears escaping from laugher. On the eighth time, Keith finally caved.

“Stop! Stop! I give in! I’m about to pee myself. We can keep the cats. We can keep them.”

Lance sat back on Keith’s thighs, smirking triumphantly.

“You weak willed wussy.”

“I held out for as long as I could, you sadist.”

Keith playfully scowled up at Lance, face flushed, and drying tear tracks evident on his face.

“Well, then,” Lance said, flushing and moving off of Keith. “Do you want to watch a movie or something?”

“It’s almost dinner time, Lance.”

“Well, I just brought groceries. I want home-made food. I haven’t had it for months.”

“Like Kraft mac and cheese?”

Lance stared blankly at Keith.

“What do you mean, like _Kraft mac and cheese_?” Lance said, lowly. Keith flinched at how quickly his mood changed. It was almost like—

Keith stiffened. Lance wasn’t like that.

“I, um, I just. That’s homemade, right? It’s just, um, the, when I was in foster homes, they always gave me, like, Kraft dinners and hot dogs and, um, stuff.”

Lance gasped in horror.

“You’ve never had a home-cooked meal before?!”

Keith frowned, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“…Is that not a home-cooked meal?”

Lance’s left eye twitched.

“You don’t have classes tomorrow, right?”

Keith shook his head, perplexed.

“Good, I’m calling Hunk. He will be _appalled _that you’ve never had the sweet warm embrace of actual food.”

“You’re…inviting a friend over?”

“Yeah, he was my roommate before, but then he got a girlfriend and they moved in together. He’s basically my mom when I’m away from my actual mom.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll just be in my room.”

Lance blinked again, sighing in exasperation.

“_You _are getting a _meal_. You have to be out there,” Lance said, yanking Keith off of his bed. “I’m calling him immediately. You don’t have to change or anything. You look better than I do whenever Hunk comes over.”

The, without waiting for Keith’s reply, Lance left the room. Probably to call that friend over. In their messy apartment. With a messy Keith, so when Lance shouted that Hunk would be there in twenty minutes, Keith almost had one of his debilitating panic attacks.

“Keith. What are you doing?”

Keith just grunted as he tossed all of the dirty clothes in a basket. Why were there dirty clothes on the floor in the living room? What happened to Keith being a clean person? He needed to wash the clothes, then he had to work on the kitchen, and the bathroom.

“Keith. Babe,” Lance called. Keith stopped. _Babe_?

“Hunk has lived here. He knows me. It’s fine,” Lance said, walking over to Keith.

“No. He doesn’t know me. I can’t make a bad impression.”

“Keith—” Lance tried to say, but Keith was already gone.

When Hunk showed up, ten minutes later than he said, the apartment was spotless, Keith had just gotten out of the shower, and Hunk had the biggest, most jam-packed, triple-sized reusable grocery bag that either of them had ever seen.

“I came as fast as I could. I’m sorry I’m late, but I know what your idea of shopping is Lance. This man has never had a meal before in his life.”

Keith trembled when the large, brown skinned guy turned his gaze on him. It was soft, warm, fierce all at once. Keith’s never been looked at like that. It felt like how a mom would look at their kid.

“Look at this precious baby! He’s so small!”

Keith wasn’t actually all that small. He was shorter than Lance by a few inches, sure, but he was muscular…ish. He would have retorted, but he was currently naked with just a towel, so….

“I’m going to get dressed,” Keith said, when he caught Lance staring. A blush creeped up on Keith’s cheeks. He definitely looked like a drowned rat.

Keith rushed to his room and _very gently_ slammed the door behind him. Kosmo was sitting on his bed.

“Hey, buddy,” Keith said gently as he walked over and all but collapsed beside him. Kosmo just wiggled under one of Keith’s arms. He sighed and squeezed Kosmo before standing up and throwing on a sweatshirt and some sweatpants. Fingerless gloves were a must after he pulled his hair into a messy, but acceptable bun.

Keith stood in front of his door, taking a few deep, calming breaths, then opened the door. He could do this.


	3. Panicking

“Keith! Get over here,” Lance called, causing Keith to jerk and follow. Kosmo was right behind him.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever cooked before?” Lance asked as he poured oil into a pan and turned the heat on.

“Um,” Keith looked at Hunk, who was busy washing his hands. “I can make the bowls of raman noodles and grilled chee—"

“Shut your quiznack. How dare you call pouring hot water in a cup of noodles and putting bread and cheese in a pan cooking?” Lance paused and pulled Keith over to wash his hands. “We’re making rice and beans, grilled chicken, plantains, and a salad. Pie for dessert.”

The Asian boy nodded hesitantly. That was a lot.

“I’m going to help you with the rice and beans, Hunk is in charge of the grilled chicken, I’ll do the plantains and—”

A loud knock interrupted Lance. Keith’s gaze honed in on Lance’s face.

“Did you invite someone else?”

“Um, not _technically_, but Pidge makes the best salads and she’s bringing a pie.”

“Open the door! The pie is hot and Allura brought ice cream,” Pidge yelled, as Hunk sighed and opened the door.

“Who the hell is Allura?” Keith growled out, his palms starting to sweat. Lance flushed at had the decency to act guilty.

Keith turned and looked at the two people coming in. One had low flowing white hair pulled into an elaborate braid and waring a white crop top and a wide flowy pink shirt. The other had on baggy pants and an oversized t-shirt.

“Hello. You must be Keith. I am Allura, Lance’s friend.” She stuck out her hand for Keith to shake.

“Hm. Hi,” Keith grunted, pulling his fingerless gloves back on and ignoring her hand. His felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Keith! Don’t be so rude.” Lance whispered lowly. Keith almost looked at him in betrayal when he realized Lance doesn’t know about his anxiety or PTSD. They got to know the bare minimum like families, or lack thereof, what classes they took, their jobs. Lance knew that Kosmo was a service dog but he didn’t ask what for.

So, Keith swallowed, quickly shook the tall woman’s hand, then dropped it like it burned him and avoided her gaze.

“Hi, I’m Pidge. I was forced here against my will too.”

Keith looked at Pidge. Baggy clothes, messy shoulder length hair.

“Do you have preferred pronouns?” Keith blurted out because he wasn’t sure what to call Pidge.

Pidge blinked, then a pleased grin spread across their face.

“Um, wow, that’s a first. She or her, I guess. Some people use they or them. Doesn’t matter much to me but thanks for asking.”

Keith nodded at Pidge, a small smile making it’s way present on his face.

“Alright! Let’s get this show on the road,” Lance exclaimed, dragging Keith to the kitchen.

“Hands are washed, but you probably have to take the gloves off.”

“No,” Keith almost growled out. Lance sighed like Keith was being difficult, but eventually Lance didn’t care anymore, and Keith was mixing the rice and beans together.

“Um, Lance,” Keith said, hesitantly. What if he was doing something wrong and they got poisoned?

“Yep!”

“The rice is turning purple.”

Lance glanced over from where he was cooking the plantains.

“It does that.”

“Oh. Um, why?”

“Don’t know. It’s probably the beans.”

Keith nodded and focused on the food. Kosmo was thumping his tail against his leg and occasionally pushing up against Keith. Everything was a bit too much, but as long as he focused on one thing and no one talked to him, it was fine.

Soon, to Keith’s relief and horror, everything was done. The chicken smelled amazing and the rice, although a little sticky, looked great. All of the food was cooked to perfection and Keith’s stomach growled.

“Well, it’s a good thing that dinner is ready,” Lance said, nudging Keith’s hip as he walked by.

Keith swallowed thickly and nodded. This was _not _going to be fun.

“So, Keith, where are you from?” Allura asked, when they all tucked into their food. They decided to eat on the couch and floor in the living room. It was homier that way.

“Texas,” Keith grunted, glancing at the two kittens that were napping with Kosmo in his dog bed. He wished he could take a nap.

“Oh, where? Some of my family lives there,” Hunk chimed in. Keith breathed in slowly through his nose. Lance shuffled a little closer from where they were sitting on the floor.

“West Texas. In the desert.” His tone was clipped.

“Hey, bud, you okay?” Lance whispered, touching his wrist, but Keith flinched away.

“So, where is your family now? Do you have any siblings?” Allura pressed, causing Keith’s cheeks to burn. Keith felt too hot. Too hot. His head was hurting; his chest was hurting.

“No. Both of my parents are gone.” After that, Hunk and Allura tried to steer the conversation elsewhere, but Keith just shoveled food into his mouth as quickly as possible, gathered plates, and went to the kitchen. He heard hushed voices coming from behind him as tears of panic blurred his vision.

Keith whistled lowly and Kosmo immediately perked up and rushed to Keith’s side.

“Hey Lance,” Keith called, hating the way that his voice cracked. “I’m gonna head out. I’ll be back.”

“Wait, Keith—"

Keith tried to flash a smile, but he was positive that it came out more of a watery grimace, so Keith all but ran to his room to put Kosmo’s service animal vest on then booked it out the door.

Only to slam headfirst into someone.

“What the hell is your problem? Move,” Keith blurted out. Why did he do this? That was his fault. He’s going to get pummeled and die and—

“Keith?”

Keith drew in a quick breath. He knew that voice.

“Shiro? What, um, what are you doing here?”

Shiro stood tall as he observed Keith. Keith who looked haggard, with dark circles under his eyes and tears streaming down his face.

“What’s wrong? Who do you live with?”

“No one. A friend. Why are you here?” Keith said, brushing the tears off of his face and wrapping his arms around himself. Shiro looked concerned and that last thing Keith needed was for Shiro to go into his apartment and meet, no, interrogate Lance.

“You called me a few weeks ago, saying that you had a place and that you lived alone.”

Keith cursed under his breath. He did do that. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Just wait here, okay? I, um, I’ll be back in a little while.”

“_Keith_,” Shiro warned, but Keith waved it off.

“I’ll be back,” Keith started to walk off, but turned back. “Go sit in your car or something.”

Shiro’s brows furrowed but walked with Keith back to his car. Then, Keith sprinted off.

There few streetlights as Keith got to the park, most of it was darkness and Keith’s anxiety sparked.

“Fuck. Oh, god. Fuck.”

Keith’s hands started shaking and he fell against a tree, sliding down.

“Why? Oh, jeez. Kos-oh god,” Keith gasped out grasping his chest. Keith squeezed his eyes shut and scratched at his wrists.

Kosmo got in Keith’s lap and nudged Keith’s face, keeping his hands away. Keith clenched his fists as he stared off at the apartment building in the distance. His nails dug into the worn leather, trembling. Tears screamed down his face as he remembered. Fire, shack, ashes, police sirens, abandoned. _Dad_.

The husky-mix nudged at Keith’s face, and pawed at his hands. Keith snapped back to attention.

“Trees, dog,” He whispered, trying to ground himself. “Trees, dog, grass, b-building, gl-fuck. Gloves.”

Keith took a breath, starting to rock back and forth. “Fur,” He said, bending in half to put his forehead on Kosmos’s back to still himself. “Leather, um, sweatshirt, tree.”

Keith took a shaky breath, counting to four. Release; count to four. Breathe; count to four.

“Trees, um, pine. Pine trees. Dog fur.” The tears slowed, but his heart was still pounding.

“Chicken,” He said, remembering the taste of the dinner. It was good and he barely got to enjoy it. Keith smiled sadly, wiping the tear tracks from his face.

Spending another ten minutes counting his breaths and petting Kosmo helped with getting the thrum anxiety under control. The air was crisp and cool, but somehow Keith was warm as he watched the stars from underneath the canopy of trees. Eventually, he stood and dusted off the dirt from his pants, making his way back.

“Hey, Shiro,” Keith said, when Shiro saw him. “I’m really sor—”

Keith was swept up in a hug.

“Are you alright? What happened? What do you need?”

Keith sighed and sagged into the hug, feeling drained and exhausted. “Nothing happened. My roommate invited a few friends over, and I guess I got overwhelmed.”

It _technically_ wasn’t a lie.

“Are you safe there? Is it like before?” Shiro asked gently, cradling Keith face in his hands. “You can always stay with Adam and I.”

“No, Shiro,” Keith said, monotonously. “It’s not. I’m fine. Lance is really nice. I just haven’t told him anything about, you know.” Keith gestured vaguely.

Shiro frowned.

“Can at least come in? See how you’re living?”

Sighing, Keith lead Shiro up to the apartment. Shiro asked if he could come in, but Keith knew. It wasn’t a question.

“Hey, Lance. I’m back,” Keith announced, when he opened the front door. Everyone, save Hunk, was still there. Pidge and Lance were playing video games and Allura was watching with concentrated interest.

“Hey. Are you alright? You rushed out pretty quickly,” Lance said, pausing the game, making Pidge scowl. He hopped up and moved towards Keith but stopping just a few feet shy from Keith.

Keith smiled and nodded, moving aside to make room for Shiro.

“I’m sorry about that, by the way. It was rude,” Keith said, avoiding Lance’s eyes. “This is Shiro.”

Shiro crossed his arms, flexing as he stared down at Lance, who looked both awe-struck and terrified.

“You know Takashi Shirogane.”

Keith cocked his head at Lance. “Yeah….”

“Holy shit,” Pidge piped up, finally tuning in. “Hi, Keith. Woah. Lance loves you, Shiro. Said this like last month and I quote, ‘You’re wasting your ability to bear children, Pidge. Shiro is like Greek God standard and I would bear him babies. He could step on my face and I’d say thank you.’”

Lance spluttered and Shiro lost some of his composure, choking on air.

“I did not! Shut up!” Lance screeched; his face beet-red. Keith allowed a small smile to creep onto his face. He totally did.

Pidge just laughed, handed Allura a controller to continue the game, but Allura, ever the polite, stood and made her way over to Shiro.

They exchanged pleasantries and numbers when they found out that they had the same major.

“Are you Keith’s roommate?” Shiro said, turning to Lance again.

“I, um, yes. Hi. I’m Lance McClain, but you can call me your soulmate.” And then Lance _winked_.

Shiro blinked. What the fuck?

Keith blinked. What the fuck?

Pidge burst out laughing.

“That was literally one of your worst lines ever. Oh, my god,” She cackled.

Allura’s shoulders shook as she covered her mouth.

“I can’t be here anymore. Bye, idiot,” Pidge snorted, as she went and grabbed a leftover piece of pie and the ice cream.

“S-shut up!” Lance scowled, blushing. Keith grinned as his shoulders sagged. He was exhausted.

“I-my boyfriend might be opposed to that, but I appreciate it,” Shiro chuckled, patting Keith on the back and lowering his voice. “You’re in good hands.”

Shiro, Allura, and Pidge filed out as Keith undid Kosmo’s harness.

“Hey, you okay man?”

Keith looked up at Lance. He smiled a small tired smile.

“Yeah. I’m-I’m good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, tell me if I made any mistakes or you want to see something in this story happen. I probably want the same thing, but I just haven't thought of it yet (Unless it's sex, then that's a no from me dawg). Anyway, it'll be maybe another week or two until i update. Hopefully, I can do it tomorrow, but that's wishful thinking and I am an inconsistent bean.


	4. Sick Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's short.

Keith was dead on his feet. The soft music of the bar sounded more like he was in the middle of a rave. Ever since the dinner and his anxiety attack, he was avoiding Lance. Sure, sometimes he got roped into a movie night or two, but for the most part he kept going to work extra shifts and managed to avoid Lance and his friends.

“Keith.”

Keith flinched and looked up. Bright brown eyes stared back at him.

“Huh?”

“Oh, honey. What’s wrong babe?” His coworker hummed, cupping his face in her hands. Keith leaned into them. They were warm. “You’re burning up! Go home, Keith.”

“My shift,” Keith whined, trying to focus his gaze on her. Her hair was in a huge blonde bun and her brown face seemed concerned.

“Hey. Do you have anyone to call? You’re shift is over in an hour. I’ll cover for you, okay?”

Keith licked his lips, unconsciously moving closer and resting his head in the crook of her neck.

“Lance. 402-420-6969.”

“That sounds fake, but okay. If a Lance doesn’t pick up, I’m taking you home with me.”

Keith nodded into her shoulder. His heart squeezed in his chest with the thrum on anxiety. He didn’t even know that Lance had come until he was getting dragged up from the back room (when did he get there?) and put in the back of a car.

“Lance?” Keith slurred, leaning heavily on his roommate.

“Hey, bud. Were you feeling bad earlier?”

Keith just nodded and pushed his face in the crook of Lance’s neck. His head hurt and he was too hot, but he was also freezing.

“Did you get your flu shot? It’s flu season and it’s supposed to be really bad,” Lance murmured, running his fingers through Keith’s hair. Keith hummed and sniffled.

“No.”

“Keith,” Lance sighed, but didn’t say anymore. Lance just allowed Keith to get snot all over him and cough on his neck.

When they arrived at the apartment, Keith was shivering, but drenched in sweat. Lance carried Keith to the bathroom and put him in the shower.

“Lance,” Keith said, grabbing onto Lance’s arm as Lance tried to leave.

“Keith. It is 5:30 in the morning. What do you want?”

“Can you,” he broke off to cough. “Can you stay?”

Lance’s eyes widened, but as he stared into Keith’s watery eyes, he found himself saying,

“Okay.”

So, Lance stayed in the bathroom, blushing as he stared at the floor lest he see a naked Keith through the glass partition. When Keith came out, shivering despite how foggy the bathroom was, Lance immediately wrapped him in a fluffy blanket and lead him into his room.

Keith’s room was very bare. There was furniture that was already there; standard bed frame, mattress, bed sheets, a dresser. That’s it. No semblance that Keith lived there at all. No comforter, just a red and white jacket on the bed frame.

Lance grimaced and grabbed some sweatpants and underwear from Keith’s drawer and took him back to his room. Keith pulled on his clothes as Lance carefully dried Keith’s hair. He didn’t want Keith to get a cold at the same time he had the flu.

“Sit,” Lance demanded, pushing Keith down on his bed. Keith looked up at Lance, with a slight frown on his face. The Cuban boy sighed and went to his closet, pulling out one of his sweatshirts. It was black with a NASA logo.

“How are you feeling?”

Keith grunted, pulling Lance’s sweatshirt over his head.

“Yeah, ‘thought so. Hunk was the one who actually bought all the sick stuff, so I’ll just get you a roll of toilet paper and water, okay?”

Keith smiled and nodded clumsily. When Lance came back, Keith had kicked his pants off and was shivering on Lance’s bed.

“_Keith_.” Lance shook his head, pushing Keith back on his bed and under the covers.

“It’s _hot_, Lance.”

Lance just rolled his eyes and stuck a thermometer in Keith’s mouth. Keith glared at him but sat there complacently until the thing beeped.

“101.6,” Lance sighed, shoving the roll of tissues into Keith’s hands. He mumbled a thanks and blew his nose. “Gross.”

Lance moved forward and handed Keith a glass of water. Keith looked so small and helpless.

“What are you looking at me for?” A raspy voice said, startling Lance.

“S-sorry.” Lance tucked Keith in, who looked extremely uncomfortable and looked around his room. His gaming stuff was shoved in a corner, his clothes that have been there for about two weeks were piled on a chair. Pictures of space and his family were put up like in a 2004 white girl’s scrapbook. **(Issa me, Jokio)**

Lance looked at Keith again.

“What?” Keith rasped again, coughing violently. Lance just shook his head and left.

When Lance appeared again, Keith was just about to nod off, so Lance got down to business (to defeat huh! Huh! The flu~).

“I found Nyquil Hunk bought like a year ago, so it should be fine, I think.”

“That’s disgusting,” Keith said, focusing on Lance’s face. Lance just rolled his eyes and forced Keith to drink some of it.

“Stop glaring at me. I’m trying to help your sick ass.”

Keith sighed and felt himself drift off.

“Th-um, don’t look at me like that,” Keith paused to yawn. “Thanks, for taking care of me.”

“No problemo, dude,” Lance said, smoothing Keith’s hair back from his face as he closed his eyes and his breathing evened out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. I'm really sorry about this. I just about finished it like two weeks ago, but I didn't have time to do it. I'll post the next chapter soon, but that's not a promise or anything. I've learned my lesson, Scout's honor.  
*Distant voice* You weren't even a Scout! *Bottle of Dumbass Disease is thrown* *Gets hit in the face and bottle explodes*


	5. Spilled Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...aha? I am so sorry. Um. This is it so I hope you like it.

When Keith came out of his fever induced daze, a couple of days later, he was burning up.

“What the fuck?” He groaned, coughing. He was still in Lance’s room, feeling sticky.

“Five more minutes,” Another voice beside him, moaned.

“Lance, what the hell?”

Lance looked up at him sleepily.

“Oh! You’re finally awake. You had a nasty fever and you were extremely clingy.”

Keith finally took in their position and blushed. He was basically on top of Lance, trapping his legs and arms. He let go and rolled off of Lance.

“Sorry.”

“No problem. You should take a shower though. I could barely get you to the bathroom for the last week.”

“A week! Why can’t I remember anything?”

Lance coughed and stood up. Keith hurriedly looked away. Why was Lance in booty shorts and his sweatshirt?

“I basically drugged you with Nyquil.”

“Uh huh. And my sweatshirt?” Keith sat up, grimacing when his shirt stuck to his skin and he felt a wave of dizziness made his head swim.

“It was warm,” Lance shrugged. “I’m going to make breakfast really quick. You should try to get up and take a shower.”

“Huh?”

“You smell, Mullet.”

Keith gasped. “I do _not_!” He still took a cautionary sniff at himself. He did kind of smell.

“I saw your face,” Lance cackled.

Rolling his eyes, Keith slowly got out of bed, immediately missing the warmth. It was _freezing_!

“What day is it?” Keith

“The 3rd.”

“Of December.”

“Yeah. You got sick at the right time, since it’s literally the last day of Thanksgiving Break.”

Keith choked on air.

“Shit! You were supposed to go home, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal. I’ll see them for Christmas break. Anyway, what about your family?”

Keith cocked his head. What family?

“No. Um, did I not tell you this?”

Lance looked uneasy, putting all the ingredients together for pancakes.

“Oh wow. I guess not. Um, my dad is dead. My mom is out of the picture.”

Lance stopped mixing, his hands falling to his sides.

“Oh. I’m really—”

“Hey. It’s fine. I usually spend the breaks by myself. Or with, I don’t know, Shiro. If he can drag himself away from his boyfriend and stop making me feel like a third wheel.”

“Oh. Yeah Shiro stopped by.”

Keith hopped up on the counter. “What did he say?”

“Um, I don’t really know. I kind of, froze and when he asked me a question, what about I have no idea, I said that you were fine and slammed the door in his face.”

Keith nodded sagely. “Smooth.”

Barking out a laugh, Lance smacked Keith’s thigh. Keith smirked as Lance poured pancake batter into a pan.

“S-shut up. Go take a shower.”

With one last smirk, Keith hopped down from the counter and went to take a shower. Keith smiled as he wobbled to the shower. When he got in, he practically moaned in relief. The water was so warm and refreshing. He grabbed the first bottle he saw and rubbed it all over himself and washing his hair.

He was in and out in less than ten minutes, realizing that he was still kind of congested when he coughed up phlegm. Which was extremely gross.

He quickly tiptoed to his room to pull on boxers, a sweatshirt, and sweatpants. He shook his hair out and walked back to the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Keith grabbed a plate and plopped down on the couch. Lance joined him, sitting closer than Keith had expected. Kosmo, Blue, and Red also wondered over.

The Keith picked up Red and Blue setting them on his lap as he ate his pancakes.

“Did you use my shampoo?” Lance asked, after they both finished their pancakes.

“What?” Keith looked over at Lance who was looking at him expectantly.

“Did you? I mean I don’t mind, but your hair is still soaking wet and I’m wondering if you used conditioner.”

Keith was taken aback.

“What’s conditioner?”

Lance blinked. “I’m not sure if you’re joking or not.”

Keith blushed. “I’m not.”

“Keith, I swear to God.” Lance yanked Keith up and led him to the bathroom. “Sit,” he demanded.

Keith sat on the toilet. Lance bustled around and grabbed a round container.

“This is conditioner, you heathen.”

“Okay,” Keith nodded. Lance scooped some out. He rubbed it between his hands before applying it to Keith. Lance combed through Keith’s tangled hair until it was smooth. Keith was perfectly happy too. He hummed happily when Lance tugged on his hair.

“Okay, then!” Lance said, moving to turn the shower on.

“Are you okay? Your face is red.”

“Lance nodded, rinsing off his hands. “Could you, um, could, um,” Lance sighed, huffing. “Take your sweatshirt off. It’ll,” Lance voice cracked, and he blushed violently. “It’ll get wet.”

Keith laughed, sniffling. He stood and did what Lance asked, shaking his head a little bit.

He turned to Lance, who’s face was kind of blank as he looked at Keith.

“Lance?”

Lance flinched, tearing his gaze off of Keith’s stomach. Lance’s face was still red, and Keith really didn’t think Lance’s face could get redder, but Lance was always full of surprises.

“Put your head underwater and wash the conditioner. I can dry your hair after. We don’t need you getting sick again.”

Keith nodded and rinsed out his hair, liking how silky his hair felt. When he was sure, it was out of his hair, he turned to Lance.

Lance sucked in a shaky breath but moved foreword to catch the water that was trailing towards Keith’s sweatpants with Keith’s towel.

He draped the towel over Keith’s shoulders and led Keith to his room.

“Sit.” Lance walked over to his messy dresser and picked up a blow dryer.

“What are you doing?”

“Drying your hair. Shut up,” Lance snapped, going back to the bathroom to grab a comb.

Keith’s eyebrows shot up but ignored the change in Lance’s mood.

Lance sat down on the bed next to Keith.

“You’re coming home with me for Christmas.”

“What?” Keith exclaimed, but Lance just turned the blow-dryer on. Keith sat frowning as Lance blow dried his hair.

When Lance finished though, Keith was up on his feet.

“What do you mean?”

“By what?”

“Wha-by you saying that I’m going home with you for Christmas.”

“I said what I meant, Keith. Keep up.”

“No, I—” Keith sighed, running his fingers through his hair. It was a lot fluffier than he was used to. “Why am I going home with you?”

“You made me miss Thanksgiving. I was planning on going to Florida for Thanksgiving and then Cuba for Christmas, but you made me miss Thanksgiving.”

“I had the flu!”

“Which is your fault because you didn’t get the flu shot when it’s supposed to be bad this year.”

Keith gaped as Lance stomped to the bathroom to grab Keith’s sweatshirt.

“Here,” Lance said, handing Keith his sweatshirt. “I’ll be back a little later. I’m going to Hunk’s.”

“What—”

“Bye,” Lance sang, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Keith flopped back onto Lance’s bed. “What the hell?”

Keith pulled his sweatshirt back on and grabbed a hair tie to put his hair into a bun. Kosmo ambled into the room and wagged his tail, licking at Keith’s hand.

“Yeah. It’s fine,” Keith sighed and pushed the idea of Lance getting hurt on his way to Hunk’s. “He’s mad at me for some reason. I’ll change his sheets and get rid of my dirty tissues and junk.”

So, Keith did just that. He cleaned up his mess and changed Lance’s sheets. Then, he put his headphones on, turned his music on high, and went to make himself some tea. He shuffled around the kitchen, filling a mug with water. Keith put the cup in the microwave.

“I guess I’m going to Cuba, then,” Keith sighed. Then the microwave beeped, but before he could reach for it a hand snaked around his waist.

Keith flinched away. His heart was going a mile a minute.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_, Keith thought. _Not again._

Keith’s mouth was dry as he felt the hand touch his shoulder. They turned him around, but Keith’s eyes were squeezed shut. He could barely hear the blaring music; his heart was so loud.

Then the headphones were removed.

“Keith. Woah calm down. What’s wrong?” A familiar voice said, but Keith couldn’t place it.

Keith immediately bowed his head. “Shit. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t, um, what do you need? I didn’t mean to flinch. I’ll take my—”

“Keith! It’s Lance, what are you doing? Take a deep breath, okay? Um,” Lance said, shakily.

Keith’s eyes snapped open. Kosmo was already there nosing Keith’s legs.

“Lance?” Keith’s eyes were unfocused and filled with tears. It was like he was dying; his heart kept pounding in his chest and he could barely breathe.

“I-I don’t know what to do. I’m calling 911. Sit down.”

Lance guided Keith gently to the floor as he grabbed his phone. Everything was swimming as tears streamed down Keith’s face.

“Keith. You’re having a panic attack. It’s going to end,” said a female voice on the phone. “I need you to take deep breaths for me. In for four seconds, out for four seconds. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Lance. Move him to a wall, then don’t touch him. Remind him that panic attacks always end. You said, he has a service dog? Make sure that Keith is responding to the dog, alright?”

“Y-yes, okay. Thank you.”

Lance hung up and then did exactly what the first responder told him to do.

“You’re fine. You’re okay,” Lance chanted like a mantra, for who knows how long. Eventually, though, Keith came too.

“I’m sorry.”

Lance stopped chanting.

“Keith. What happened?”

Keith sighed, a wiped his face, avoiding Lance’s worried expression and focusing on Kosmo.

“I had a panic attack, but, um, it was nothing,” Keith said quickly, shaking his head.

“No. It wasn’t nothing. What was _that_?”

Keith frowned. “W-When you,” he paused. “When you grabbed my waist earlier, it-it reminded me of my- of when- of my old boyfriend. That I lived with at the time. He, um, he was kind of rough and you, um, scared me.”

Lance was silent for a moment. Keith was nervous.

“I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, Keith. I didn’t know. You were about to step in water, and you have socks on and I didn’t want you to have wet socks. I shouldn’t have—”

“No. It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

Lance and Keith were silent.

“Can I, um, give you a hug?” Lance said, hesitantly. “Unless you don’t want to be touched! That’s fine too! I just—”

Lance was cut off by Keith sliding into his arms. Keith was a little tense, but when Lance didn’t move, he relaxed and rested his nose in the crook of Lance’s neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Keith was silent for a moment before nodding his head.

“Yeah. You deserve to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheese!!!! So. We love a panicky Keith and sharing feelings. ...oh wait! Not until next chapter. Hee hee.


	6. Coffee with a side of Explainations

Keith and Lance moved to Lance’s room.

“Did you clean my room?”

Keith scratched the back of his head.  _ Was I not supposed to? Did Lance not want me to? Is he mad? _

“Yeah. Sorry,” Keith said, ducking his head.

Lance flopped down on the made-up bed, lying there for a moment until Blue climbed up on his chest. A slow grin made its way onto his face as he held Blue against his chest.

“Aww. Baby!” Lance cooed at Blue before looking up at Keith. “Don’t apologize, cariño. I should apologize. You’re sick. I should have done that before I left, but thank you.”

Keith sighed in relief, sitting down cautiously on the bed. Lance wriggled over and put his head in Keith’s lap.

“Oh,” Keith murmured, looking down at Lance who smiled softly. Lance stretched and scratched behind Blue’s ears making her purr before looking back at Keith. Then there was an awkward silence.

“Are you going to start or…?” Lance said.

“Oh, uh,” Keith blushed furiously.

“The asshole ex?” Lance supplied, sitting up.

“Right, uh. His name was Lotor—”

“Sorry, but pause. Lotor. Tall as I don’t know what. Long white silky hair, skin smoother than a baby’s booty, and pointy ass ears?” Lance said, motioning to his own ears.

Keith nodded hesitantly, curling in on himself and let Kosmo nose his way onto his lap.

“Holy quiznack! I know him! He dated Allura a few months back, but she broke up with him. He was taking people’s money in an attempt to help other people in some sort of twisted helpful way.”

“That…sounds like him,” Keith swallowed thickly. “I dated Lotor for about a year and a half, maybe two years. We broke up about a year before I moved in with you.”

“Where did you live before you lived with me?”

“Uh,” Keith blushed, embarrassed and angry. “A lot of different places, for a lot of different prices. It’s not… my proudest moment.”

Keith played with a piece of hair. The air was filled with tension, making both of them uncomfortable.

“Can we go out? Get coffee or something?”

Lance practically leaped off the bed. “God yes, dios mio, that was tense. I thought I would die. Get dressed warm. It’s cold out.”

Ten minutes later, they arrived at a nearby café. It was a small, cozy building tucked in between a flower shop and a tattoo parlor.

“This place is the best. It’s always busy so no one will hear you talk, and the seats are  _ always _ empty so you choose where to sit,” Lance explained, throwing open the door. They walked in and froze.

It was almost silent in the café, only the sound of soft talking, the flipping of paper, and the clink of dishware was heard. Lance looked around, stunned. Almost every single seat of the café was filled to the brim with college students.

“Well, your information was incorrect,” Keith scoffed. He made his way to the counter, grabbing Lance’s hand and moving through the sea of people. Kosmo’s tail wagged furiously, but he stayed quiet and rigid by Keith’s side.

“I forgot that finals  _ are  _ in a week and a half,” Lance said, pressing closer into Keith to avoid bumping into people. Keith’s hands started to shake so he held onto Lance tighter when they got to the counter.

“Can I get a pumpkin spice latte and… chamomile tea please? Also, is there a table available?” Lance said, taking charge and squeezing Keith’s hand.

The girl behind the counter filled the page in the textbook that she was reading before looking up and seeing Lance.

“Oh! Lance! Hi!” The girl was tall with long, light purple kinky curly hair that was tied back into a ponytail. She looked between Keith and Lance before typing in their orders, smiling.

“Hey, Minnie. Is there a table available?”

“Um,” She said, stretching out the sound. “Yeah. There’s a booth over there in the back. I’ll bring your drinks over.”

“Alright, cool. Thanks. Come on, mi corazon,” Lance said, pulling his wallet out and paying for the drinks. He led Keith to the booth.

They sat down and Keith chewed on his lip nervously. Lance looked at Keith expectantly, but Keith just looked down at his hands.

“Here are the drinks. Call me over if you want a refill, alright?” Minnie said, setting down the drinks. She smiled softly at Lance before patting him on the shoulder and walking back.

“So…?” Lance said, sipping his latte and pushing the tea over to Keith. Keith took a deep breath and looked at his hands.

“Oh, uh, well, Lotor wasn’t a bad boyfriend, okay? He never asked personal things; it was just easy. He just...wanted he wanted and he  _ always  _ got what he wanted,” Keith said, before taking a sip of tea. “When we first started dating, um, he was nice and polite and things were easy. We did things that we both liked and then I left Shiro’s house. Then, we got comfortable? I don’t know, but he changed after we moved in together. He wanted to know where I was all the time and who my friends were and my schedule, but I was fine with that. I...I liked him caring enough about me to want to know where I was all the time. I-, god, this is pathetic, but I never had someone care about me like that. But, sometimes he expected more of me, but I didn’t know how to give him that. He asked for things and I said no.”

Tears welled up in Keith’s eyes, which he quickly wiped away. Lance reached forward and clasped Keith’s hands.

“You don’t have to tell me-”

“No! I want to,” Keith exclaimed, but drew into himself as his eyes took on a glassy look. “Lotor, um, Lotor got a little rough when I said no to what he wanted, like, um, sex or other stuff. He thought I was being, I don’t know, defiant or something on purpose, so he ignored me whenever I said no, but when I changed my answer, he got angry and pushed me away. I thought that was how our relationship would work and I was fine with how it was. When he grabbed me randomly to do what he wanted I went just with it. I didn’t want him mad, but it made me nervous whenever he did that, though. He was aggressive and rough. I didn’t realize how wrong it was until a few months later I wandered into a cafe and overheard a group talking about abusive relationships and I thought about what I was in and it felt wrong all of a sudden. So, I left, but now I get panic attacks when people sneak up on me.”

They sat in silence for a while. 

“I’m sorry.”

Keith’s head snapped up.

“What?”

“I’m-”

No. I heard. Wh-why are you sorry?”

“I just am, okay?” Lance huffed. He wiped his eyes and finished the rest of his latte. “You ready to get out of here? We should do something fun.”

“You’re not...disgusted?”

“No! Why would I be? Come on, Mullet, you were in a bad situation and you didn’t know any better. Now, I saw a flyer for a carnival, so let’s go,” Lance said, standing up. “You went through some heavy stuff and I have to make it up to you.”

“You really don’t,” Keith frowned, but stood up. Lance smiled and grabbed Keith’s hand. He led them out, waving to Minnie.

“I’m gonna kick your butt at those carnival games,” Lance teased, bumping shoulders with Keith, who gaped then laughed.

“You wish.”


End file.
